What Lies Within An Empty Heart
by Lycaenida-Zephyr
Summary: Told through Sebastian, this short story is a sweet romance about Sebastian's growing feelings for Ciel. Feelings are blossoming and growing day by day, how can he confess to himself, let alone Ciel, that he, a demon, loves a human child?
1. Chapter 1

What Lies Within an Empty Heart

**A/N **_I really, truly adore the SebaxCiel pairing so very much, almost too much to be healthy. They are just so fun to work with, so many possibilities for me to play with! So here is another short fic for you, and it is a rare thing indeed to find me write as it contains no smut. It's always too much of a temptation to write Sebastian into delicious scenes of debauchery but I managed not to yield to temptation for once in my life. Also, it is written in the first person, through his eyes. I rarely write in FP so this is a rare piece indeed, all the more reason for you lovely readers to review for me, especially if you insatiable things want some more naked Sebby *winks*_

_Zephyr _

Demons…are not supposed to fall in love. We are not supposed to be capable of such emotions. Lust is another thing altogether though; the desires of the flesh are not in any way connected to those of the heart. So how could I ever foresee this happening to me? I, a demon, falling in love with a mere human, and not just a human but a child. He's just a child. And my master. This is wrong, I know that, but we demons live by aesthetics, not morals. I should not bear such feelings towards this selfish, arrogant human but I do, though how I came to posses them is beyond my understanding.

It started as that warm, unfamiliar feeling of affection I felt when I woke him in the mornings at the sight of his innocent, bed rumpled appearance. He would always look so… sweet, even adorable. In those few moments while he awoke, he would appear to be nothing more than an innocent child, untainted by this world, so unlike how he truly is. His expression would be open and his lips not set in a hard line or sarcastic sneer. I would almost be fooled for those brief seconds that he was the sweet boy he appeared to be, that he was pure. And then he would turn his gaze to me, and those wide eyes, those wide, beautiful eyes would betray him for what he was. A cold, hardened gaze and most importantly, our contract. His eye, no longer a match to the cerulean blue of its twin, burned with the seal that bound us together for eternity. When for the first time in my existence I felt a sense of remorse upon seeing the seal marked on what was effectively my prey, I knew something was changing within me.

It came to be a habit of mine to enter the room silently and not rouse him for long moments. I would kneel beside him and watch him in his sleep, watch the way his chest rose and fell evenly with his breathing, the way his lips were always slightly parted when he slept. His hair would always be tousled from a night of fitful dreaming, and I became too brave for my own good and would smooth that blue hair from his face. I came to know when he was having an unpleasant dream or nightmare because his eyes would be tightly shut and a small frown would crease his brow, sometimes he would have the sheets clutched in his fists or he would toss and turn and mumble incoherent words in his sleep.

I would venture into his room on silent feet at night, too, and watch him in the darkness, shrouded by shadows. I once thought he knew I was there when I heard him call my name ever so softly, and as I am bound to, I answered his call but found him to still be sleeping. He called for me in his sleep. He was dreaming of me. Me. I had to leave him then and there, for a peculiar feeling that threatened to overwhelm me swelled within my heart. But still I would return, pulled as though by a magnet to his side once more, to gaze upon his sleeping form with a strange longing.

That affection was only the beginning. It grew into a longing to touch him, and so I did, carefully, as he slept. Simple gestures like smoothing his hair from his flushed face grew to stroking the side of his face. It didn't end there, it grew, screaming at me so I could not ignore it. Once I had been obligated to protect him under out contract, and now, it was my wish to. The concept of failing him pained me. I refused to allow myself to let him come to any harm for more reasons than it was in the contract and my own pride. I care about him. That alone is almost terrifying in how unlike me it is to care for anyone (as I recall, there is a first time for everything, and this is certainly one of those times) let alone to this degree.

And why? Why do I care for him so? I could give you a thousand reasons ranging from small to grand. His adorable appearance is one of those small reasons. His tormented past in one of the grand ones. Funny, that. When he summoned me I barely registered why he did nor did I give a damn. He was a contractor and his soul would become mine. That was all I cared about. And now I care for him. What happened to the mighty demon I was, that I would become this thing? Sebastian Michaels. That is the name I was bestowed with, and that name seems to have branded itself to me for no longer do I feel like myself. These intrusive feelings and thoughts have made sure of that. I am a stranger in my own body but I do not care now. At first, I was horrified with myself, disgusted, even. But now I have grown to accept that I have fallen in love with my master, for all the small and great reasons I can and cannot justify.

I watch him with a burning desire I rarely disguise. Longing glows within my crimson eyes and I know he sees it. He sees it now as I dress him for another day, a torturous task in itself. Every morning and night he sits exposed before me, so perfect, so beautiful. He used to not bat an eyelash at this, so used to being serviced in every way and never having to dress himself, but now he shifts uncomfortably under my gaze, fidgeting nervously if by mistake our eyes meet and he sees the red of my iris's burning like a fire. If it is awkward for him, it is impossible for me. I have to go about this task like any butler would, however, I am a demon _and_ a butler, and not used to this level of self-restraint.

Another morning and Ciel is sleeping soundly. A strip of light filtering through the curtains falls across his face and he squints his eyes tighter closed, frowning. This in turn makes me smile. He is so adorable; his face is like one of the dolls his company sells. His features are no less than perfect, I have never laid eyes upon anyone quite like him. Does he know he possesses such a rare and magnificent beauty? Does he know how well his creamy, ivory complexion marries with his teal blue hair? Does he know? Of course he knows, but not in the arrogant vanity most beautiful people do. He knows because of the ordeal he went through due to his angelic beauty, and it is for this reason I restrain myself. He has suffered through enough. I will not be he one to cause him any more suffering. I will be the one who protects him _from _suffering and anybody who tries to cause this boy pain will truly understand what it means to be in a personal hell.

I know the light will rouse him soon, and so I cannot be caught off guard. With a final glance at him I open the curtains and hear a muffled groan from his direction. While my back is still turned to him, I smile, and then compose myself. He has turned his face into the pillow and has dragged the covers over his head, locks of blue hair fanning over the pillow.

"Bocchan, it is a beautiful morning." I say, in a vain attempt to make him get himself up. Of course, it does not work and I am answered only with an incoherent grumble of discontent. "I have prepared morning tea, and breakfast will be served imminently." Still he does not move. "Bocchan?" Is he sleeping?

"I'm sleepy." He mumbles. "Just ten more…minutes…" He mutters, drifting off towards the end. Due to this I presume he has indeed fallen back asleep. I sigh and place the tray on the nightstand. I gently shake his shoulder and he groans yet again. "Said ten minutes." He finally says, flipping over. He underestimated how close I was to him and now my face is about a foot away from his and I have to swiftly draw back else I succumb to temptation. He struggles to sit up and I prop pillows behind his back to lean against as he accepts the tea and blows at it before sipping.

"It is a tea infused with black cherry. I heard that in Russia, they sweeten their tea with black cherries. Is it to your taste?" I ask attentively, worrying I shall have to go and prepare a different tea, and knowing if I do, he will just go back to sleep.

"Yes, it's fragrant and sweet." I almost sigh in relief, but naturally I keep my decorum. As a butler of the Phantomhive household, it's only natural I remain composed at all times. This is why it troubles me so that I am struggling greatly with maintaining any composure at all these days.

Ciel's morning routine is the same every day; he drinks his morning tea whilst reading the London Times and I wait patiently by his side until he is ready to be dressed. For a child, he is incredibly cultured, even for a noble. Boys of his age should not have the duties he does, but he never complains. From being the head of the Phantomhive family to running the family business to being the Queen's watchdog, he takes it all in his stride and never voices a complaint. It is admirable, really, even if he does rely heavily on me. The boy can't even dress himself.

"I thought these garments would be most appropriate for the fine weather we have today." I hold out the outfit, really only postponing having to undress him. "Are they ok?"

"Yes, fine. You never really care what I think about them anyway, why today?" He asks.

"I'm just being attentive as a butler should be." I smile.

"There isn't a bad outfit in my wardrobe and you're a good butler. You don't need to ask me." He shrugs and swings his legs over the side of the bed, waiting for me. I kneel before him and begin unbuttoning his sleep shirt, which is of the finest Egyptian cotton. I am glad for the gloves I wear; my fingers graze his tender, soft skin with every button I undo as more of his youthful body is revealed. It seems he still feels nervous when I dress him, as he flinches slightly as I move to undo the final buttons. He is not the only one. Usually, my fingers are dexterous but now they are almost stiff and I have to avert my gaze as is appropriate whilst undoing the final buttons. I slide the shirt off and my hands glide along his shoulders and slender arms. I feel him shudder slightly and can't help but be surprised by his reaction.

The urge to kiss him is almost unbearable, but I continue to help him into his underwear and then the worst part is over and we can both relax.

The shirt I have chosen is a very lightweight, fine silk and should be cool enough for a warm day like today. It is because I am attentive to Ciel's needs that I chose it, and it is because I am a good butler and attentive and posses even a shred of decency that I do not kiss him. I do not touch him. I do not gaze upon him like I wish to. I just dress him in his suit and slip on his shoes, comb his silky hair out and tie his eye patch on. I am a good butler. I have only my master's best interests in mind (and heart) and his best interest is not for a demon like me to make a move on the already fragile boy. It pains me to know he is now shy around me, and it is all due to my carelessness when always I have prided myself in being one hell of a butler.

"Bocchan?" I begin. He looks up at me with his usual blank expression. An image of his sleeping face intrudes in my mind. "I have to ask you, why is it you have been acting so awkward around me as of late?" It is not an easy thing to ask, and I almost regret the words leaving my mouth. He blushes. It's adorable but I can't let myself drift off. I know what he's going to say. He's going to tell me that I am an insufficient butler and my behaviour has been reckless. Or worse, that he knows I steal into his room at the dead of night, or that he pretends to be asleep in the morning yet knows I am already there before I wake him. Any moment now.

"It's because…because you…" He stumbles, his blush deepening. I wait for him to finish but he does not.

"Because I?" I continue impatiently.

"Because you always look at me like that." He says, not looking at me. I knew it. He's known all along and it really is my fault that he has been uncomfortable around me. For the first time in my existence, I feel shame.

"Bocchan, I…" But he carries on as though I have not spoken.

"You always look at me like you're going to kiss me and you never do." He says in a rush, positively crimson now. Even the tips of his ears are burning red and he is clenching the sheets beneath him. He still does not look at me. I look at him though, in fact, I openly stare. Was that…longing in his voice? It's already too late to dance on eggshells. I sit beside him on his bed, something I never do.

"Do you want me to?" I ask in a whisper, turning his face to me with my thumb and forefinger at his chin. He won't look at me but his silence is answer enough. I tilt his face upwards and brush hair away from his single visible eye and finally that eye looks at me. In his eye I see fear, but fear at what? At me? No, I understand. At rejection. He was afraid, afraid to admit his feelings, and every second I waste just looking at him is only building that fear. And so, hesitantly, gently, I press my lips against his.

So accustomed to simply seizing whatever I want, this summons up something else entirely; I have waited so long to feel his velvet lips against mine that a delicious wave of emotion is sweeping over me. I had deemed him entirely unobtainable for so long that this is just so…perfect. He is perfect. His lips are so soft against mine, so hesitant and unsure, so inexperienced. Carefully I cradle the back of his head with one hand while the other snakes around his waist to draw him closer, as close as I dare. An advance like this would usually obtain a punishment, but now, as he relaxes beneath my touch, melting against me, I do not think he is in any state to protest, nor does he try to. His body is so frail, so small, that I'm almost afraid of breaking him if I am too rough with him. He pulls his lips away from mine, his eyes still closed, long lashes brushing his rosy cheek and I can feel his warm breath on my lips.

His azure eye opens and looks up at me, so many emotions swimming in its blue depths, so many questions. What does he see in mine? I do not even know what I am feeling right now; it's so strange and unexpected but so strong and not at all unpleasant. Strange that my heart is always so empty, and yet this boy, this _human_, can make me feel for him without even trying. I brush my lips against his again, a light, feathery kiss, and as I draw away he startles me by being the one to kiss me, his lips crushing against mine urgently. I'm so taken aback by his unpredictable behaviour that momentarily I do not respond, but then I dare to lick my tongue over the seal of his lips and surprisingly, he understands and parts them for me. I feel a tingle akin to electricity course through my veins when our tongues meet. It's thrilling. It's so...exciting, when you get just what you want, when it is given to you, when you have waited. Anticipation makes it all the sweeter, almost as sweet as he tastes.

He tasted like black cherries.

**A/N **_Oh gosh, oh gosh, oh gosh. I ended up liking this little ficcy more than I intended to, so I'm no longer sure whether to end it here or carry on. If you lovelies review for me and desire it, I will continue 'What Lies Within An Empty Heart' for you. Even the name begs a longer story, it must be sign. But it isn't a review~ *sings*_

_So come on kids, review for a naked Sebby? _

_Zephyr _


	2. Chapter 2

**Part Two**

**A/N **_You know what they say, ask and you shall receive. And receive you shall, as will Ciel. Hehe. Apologies for the long wait but I'd been very busy with work etc. Also, I went to the London MCM expo again! Can't wait till October, I'm a Cosplay whore! _

_The rest of this fic is_**m-rated**_, kids, so if you're still innocent, avert your gaze. If you're like me and are fuelled by smut, read on. It's time to recharge!_

_Zephyr_

Perhaps it is his innocence that I find so alluring. I know it certainly contributes to the attraction I feel towards him. When he makes a small squeak in the back of his throat when my tongue touches his, it's so sweet, so adorable, that it just makes me want him more. I have to admit that I forget myself and push him back on his bed so that I am lying above him and he beneath me, so small and so very, very cute. I remove his eye patch and that eye shines with the seal of our contract, or more accurately, my mark of possession that claims his soul to be mine and means that he can never escape me and I will never lose him. We are bound together for eternity, but not in a romantic way, in the worst possible way imaginable. He, a boy, has signed away his soul to me. One day I will devour his soul and he will cease to exist entirely, nothing more than a memory of what once had been. It's tragic and it pains me to think that this beautiful boy went through so much pain that he summoned me, a demon. I'm the bad guy here and that can never change.

"Sebastian?" He asks meekly, a voice so timid and soft that for the life of me I wonder who has said my name for it is so unlike him that I don't register it's he who's said it. I focus my eyes on him and see that he is blushing intensely and his body is stiff, rigid beneath the hand I have on his chest. I realise what I'm doing and pull it away instantly. _He's just a boy, _I tell myself, _a young boy who doesn't need your filthy hands on him._

"I apologise, Bocchan. I got carried away." I pull away but he stops me by grabbing my tie.

"No, it's not that, it's just that the doors open." He says, blushing. I look at the door slowly, and then back at him, and then realise something: he doesn't want me to stop. I grin at him and leap off the bed, shutting the door and returning to him in less than two seconds. He blinks in surprise, forgetting how fast I can be, before he is pushed back against the bed and I resume my position above him, protectively, dominantly, and capture his lips in another kiss, noticing how I can now taste myself in his mouth. He sighs, his breath mingling with mine, and carefully places his arms around my shoulders. They rest there awkwardly as though he is unsure of himself (which, I remind myself, he is. He's thirteen) until I push one of his legs away from the other so I can position myself more comfortably and closer to him.

It seems that his natural instinct then takes over and he wraps that leg around me and tightens his grip around me, showing that the contact is desired on his behalf as well, and I cherish the feeling of his lips, his arms wrapped around me, his leg about my waist…it's all so surreal.

He's so tantalisingly close that I have to restrain myself from going too far as the moment is calling for me to. The way we're lying, a certain area of my anatomy is pressed right against a certain more innocent part of his, and it's taking every ounce of control I posses plus the tiny shred of decency I own to not do anything I shouldn't. But when he let's out a soft, quiet moan when I kiss his neck, I can't help but want more of him. I slip my hand underneath his shirt and it connects with his skin and I hear him gasp, and that gasps fluidly turns into another moan when I nibble at the tender, delicate skin of his neck. One of his hands is in my hair and I feel him tighten his grip and tug a handful when I bite down harder and proceed to lick my tongue up his neck, stopping behind his ear, where I kiss him before flicking my tongue over the lobe and up the shell, then suck on the lobe and nibble it. I listen to his heavy breathing and each noise he makes, a serenade to me, and my hand can't help but wander up his chest, seeking his small, rosy nipples.

When my fingers find one, I stimulate him, massaging them gently before pinching them. All the while I'm kissing him, relishing his taste and the warm wetness of his mouth. Accidently, I push my hips into his and he breaks the kiss, gasping.

"Sebastian, stop. That's enough." He pants, alarmed when he feels my erection through my trousers. I curse myself and my body for betraying me, and for scaring him. I should have known better.

"I'm sorry, Bocchan." I say, kissing his cheek lightly. He relaxes a little. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"Don't be ridiculous, I'm not scared." He pouts indignantly. Of course, Ciel Phantomhive isn't afraid of anything, except perhaps an erection or a horny demon.

"Of course not. Anyway, I apologise for getting carried away." I sit up and this time he doesn't stop me, instead smoothing his clothes and hair and searching for his eye patch. I find it for him and attach it while he speaks.

"I just, I'm not…well, I can't…" He stumbles, embarrassed. I tie the ribbon into a bow and cup his face, kissing his lips gently.

"Do not worry yourself. I understand." I smile and can't refrain from kissing his rosy cheek. He reaches out and rakes his fingers through my hair.

"I don't want the servants, or anyone, seeing you look like that." He says shyly, neatening my hair. He doesn't seem to know how arousing his fingers caressing against my scalp is. "It is not appropriate for my butler." He amends, as though he isn't concerned about them making assumptions on my tousled hair but the image I present as the butler of Phantomhive.

Once Ciel is presentable, he goes about the rest of his day and excuses me from serving him at breakfast because though he won't say it aloud, he doesn't want any of the other servants seeing that I have a persistent erection after emerging from the bedroom with the young master Ciel. That just would not do. And so I am excused from my duties and naturally, I have to take care of the problem _at hand_, so to speak.

I find Ciel in his office on the telephone talking to somebody about a fault with the Funtom companies new design for a toy ship. I bow at the door before entering and wait for him to finish. While waiting, I notice that his eyes casually dart down to my waist and, satisfied, he continues looking at the designs for the ship. He hangs up the phone and looks my way.

"Sebastian, I need to talk to you." He says before I can speak. I nod and stand before his desk. "About earlier…" He begins but trails off, not meeting my eyes. He doesn't seem to be able to find the words he's look for and so I sigh and walk around his desk and kneel before him, turning his chair around so we're face to face at my sitting height. I want desperately to touch his face but I don't.

"About earlier." I begin where he left off. "I apologise if I was out of order, Bocchan."

"N-no. I didn't exactly stop you." He says shyly, blushing yet again, his current favourite expression. I give up and touch his cheek lovingly.

"Why?" I ask him. "Why didn't you stop me?" I elaborate.

"Because I didn't want to." He admits in a small voice. "Is that bad? It is, isn't it? I know it is but…"

"Bocchan, there is nothing 'bad' about it."

"Except for you being my butler, a demon and a man?" He says cynically. "If anyone's behaviour was inappropriate, it was mine. I shouldn't behave in that way, but then, neither should you, and you – "

"And I love you, Bocchan." I cut him off. His eye widens and he stares at me with that single, beautiful eye.

"You what?" He says eloquently.

"I love you." I confess.

"You what?" He repeats. I chuckle and give up, pulling him off his seat so that he lands on top of me and we're sprawled on the floor.

"I." I kiss him. "Love you." I kiss him again. He stares at me again and doesn't reply, instead kissing me, taking initiative, and allowing me to roll him over so that I am lying above him once more. The door to his office is open.

I always thought that I knew the young master inside out, most definitely better than anybody else. I know all of his secrets, his thoughts, his fears. But I never, ever expected him to react like this. I never expected to confess my love for him and then find myself pushing his shirt up hungrily to expose his slim, boyish torso and not to be met by restraining hands but hands that cling to me desperately, tugging at my hair (it seems to be a habit of his) when I ravish his neck once more and tease his nipples.

"Hmm…" He sighs, a breathy moan, his eyes closed in pure bliss. "Sebastian…" To hear him say my name in such a voice, his face flushed, is just too much. It calls to the primal part of me that I try so hard to restrain when I am with him. I rip off his eye patch and his eyes open to look at me beneath heavy lids. I smile at him, stroking his face affectionately and he looks over at the door.

"Close the door." He says with a smile. Such simple words that in this moment, hold such promises that I have the door closed and have returned to him before he can blink. He reaches for me, so vulnerable, so exposed, his defences down. I have never seen him so open and it both surprises and delights me. He is human, after all. It seems I have finally broken down his high walls and now, laid out before me, is the real Ciel. He's so human it's almost terrifying.

"I love you, Sebastian." He murmurs, his mouth next to my ear and my mouth at the junction of his neck. I lift my head and gaze down at him, smiling like a fool. Like the fool I damn well am. "Butler or demon, I don't care. I love you. You're the only person who's ever…stayed with me. I trust you. I never trust anyone but I trust you." Such honest words that pull at my heart strings. How vulnerable he really is. Beneath his coldness and his arrogant aloofness, he's just a vulnerable boy who needs somebody to love him. He lost his parents, his family, his childhood. He needs somebody, and he's chosen me. Who would have thought that all those years ago when he summoned me and I formed the contract, I would come to posses such strong feelings of love for him, and not only that, but have them returned to me? To hear those words come from those lips, lips so usually set in a grim, thin line…it's overwhelming, and I find myself unable to cease kissing him. He isn't complaining though, instead he pulls me closer to him and our bodies press together temptingly.

He's still a child…he's just thirteen…he's just a boy…I keep telling myself this, repeating it like a mantra, because the urge to undress him is unbearable. He doesn't know just how potent he is when he moans my name and his body is trembling beneath my touch. He doesn't know how hard it is for a man (okay, demon, but I'm still a man) to ignore an erection, especially when he accidently rubs against it. He looks down and sees the bulge against my trousers and looks up at me.

"You're hard." He says passively, in a voice so blunt, so matter-of-fact that I nearly laugh.

"You're to blame." I say equally passively, not sure how much longer I can keep kissing him and tasting his flesh before I _really _want to taste him. "You're so tempting…" I murmur into his ear, satisfying myself with teasing him, kissing, licking, biting, sucking his neck, ears, lips. I take a gamble and slide my hand from its position on his chest, his jacket and waistcoat discarded, the shirt crumpled about his chest, and move it down to his crotch, rubbing the heel of my hand there. It seems I'm not the only one who's hard.

Ciel moans as I rub my hand against him, and I can feel him growing harder as he pants and fists his hands tightly. I decide it's worth the risk to unbutton his trousers. He can always stop me if he wants to. He doesn't. He allows me to continue and I gingerly pull them down, my heart racing wildly, and discard them. He kicks his shoes off and I take this as a sign he isn't about to stop me. He watches me lustily as I slowly inch down his underwear. So many times I have undressed him, but never like this, never with such measured, teasing movements and with my heart beating rapidly as I expose him. He's now wearing only his shirt, which is pushed up to his chest, and his socks and garters. I rake my eyes over him appreciatively, admiring his boyish body, the skin hot to the touch. I shrug out of my tailcoat and kneel over him again. He cautiously unbuttons my waistcoat and I chuckle at the way his hands tremble. He shoots me a warning glance full of venom – a reminder he is still the master, still Earl Ciel Phantomhive.

I aid him in removing the waistcoat and loosen my tie, pulling it off and throwing it over my shoulder. I pull my gloves off with my teeth and they fall to the floor. His fingers, shaking and unsure, unbutton my shirt while I loom above him. The task proves to be arduous for him as I nibble his lower lip, and when I push his thighs apart and start stroking his erection, he gives up entirely and my shirt remains half buttoned, revealing my chest. He clutches a handful of my hair as I wrap my hand around him, acknowledging that despite his pretty boy appearance puberty has indeed long since begun for him.

"Ahnn…mm, Sebastian!" He groans, crying out my name and his hips automatically buck up to meet my hand. Bringing him pleasure in return brings me pleasure. One good turn deserves another, as they say. With one hand stroking him, the other swiftly finishes unbuttoning my shirt and it falls open. I move down his body and lower my head to his erection, holding it with my hand while my mouth sheaths the rest of him, and then I remove my hand and take him in completely. I would be lying if I said I wasn't an impressive lover. I _am _hundreds of years old, after all, and that's hundreds of years of experience that he's benefitting from.

It's a sinful pleasure. It's so good to have him in my mouth like this, to taste him, to hear his moaning and noises of pleasure as he throws his head back and his back arches up, his hips meeting my mouth as I pump it up and down him, feeling him pushing down my throat. I don't neglect an inch of him. One of my hands is toying with the hard nubs on his chest and the other his sack, massaging and sucking him into a delirium. I hold his hips up to my mouth with my hands on his buttocks when I know he's close to climaxing.

"Oh God, Sebastian! Ahh…haa…" He pants, and then his body shakes in my hands and he screams out. "Aah, Sebastian!" He comes in my mouth, or more accurately, throat, and a string of indistinguishable noises of pleasure escapes his lips as his hips shake before he collapses on the floor, sliding out of my mouth. I wipe my mouth and watch him pant heavily, struggling to find his regular breathing pattern, and I move up him to kiss his parted lips, pushing my tongue into his mouth, the taste of his seed lingering.

"Wow…" He breathes, gasping to catch his breath as I lie beside him, his head on my bare chest and hand tracing patterns across it. "You're very…good…" He chuckles, still breathless.

"With age comes experience." I tell him, kissing his forehead and trying to ignore how good his hand moving across my chest feels.

"I'm not very old, so I don't really have experience, but…" He glances down and then flicks his gaze back up to me. I shake my head.

"You don't have to." I tell him, but he's already sitting up and his hands are moving to unbutton my trousers. He ignores me and continues, his hands more sure as they fly over the buttons and he cautiously reaches into my underwear and the moment his hand connects with my erection, a throaty moan escapes me. Ciel is blushing, and his eyes widen almost unnoticeably when he releases my erection of its constraints. He flicks his eyes up to me and I smirk at him. He averts his eyes and closes them, opening his mouth and taking the head of my arousal in. He rolls his tongue around it and sucks hard. He surprises me with just how good it feels, but then, the fact that it is _Ciel_ doing this is enough alone to make me moan with want.

Ciel is surprisingly talented for his first time, so talented that I have to remind myself I'm the more experienced one here and I can't embarrass myself. But kid or not, he's good, and the visual is just too much. His eyes flit up to meet mine and, filthy thing I am, I tilt his head back a little.

"Look at me when you're doing that." I tell him. He blushes a little but obeys me. "What a beautiful expression…" His wide, beautiful eyes look so innocent. His mouth around my cock, however, does not, but it feels so damn good I'm not about to stop him. One of his dainty hands is holding onto my shaft and he seems to be learning – his hand is moving in time with his mouth now, sliding up and down the length slippery with his saliva. I'm not going to last much longer if he keeps this up. The least I can do is warn the kid.

"Ciel, I'm…I'm going to come…" I pant, gripping his hair and making him go faster. His eyes widen before closing and with a final upwards thrust, I come. I manage to keep my eyes open and watch as his eyes screw up, but he doesn't attempt to move away until I release his hair. He removes his mouth and wipes a hand over his lips.

"You called me Ciel." He says. I smile.

"Apologies, but I couldn't help myself."

**A/N **_Hmm, I don't like the ending, it's kinda rushed. Oh well. Hope you guys liked it any way, look out for the third instalment! Now, back to work…_

_Zephyr _


End file.
